Wednesday, 20 May 2015

Having so recently
written about Marlowe’s Jew of Malta,
there is no need to rehearse the relationship between the two, though it is
worth emphasizing again their paradoxical performance history in recently
years. Marlowe’s play was originally called The
Tragedy of the Rich Jew of Malta, but is now usually performed as a dark
comedy; Shakespeare’s play was originally The
Comedy of the Merchant of Venice, but is now usually (always?) performed as
a tragedy (with occasional comic elements). The transformations reflect our
changed attitudes and the problematization of race in the modern era. Marlowe’s
Jew is so irredeemably bad that we can only read the portrayal ironically;
Shakespeare’s Jew is treated so badly that we can only read the portrayal
tragically. Whether or not the problematic elements were there in the original productions
is another matter (though I’m inclined to believe they were). In this respect,
both recent RSC productions have trod familiar ground: we sympathise with both
Jewish characters and feel discomfort at the behaviour of most of the avowedly
Christian characters. Polly Findlay, directing the current RSC production,
takes the same familiar track as, for example, the 2004 film starring Al
Pacino. Shylock has an understated but solid nobility, Gratiano is an oaf,
Bassiano is shallow and Antonio is a bigot. But though it covers familiar
ground, it glides over it very elegantly.

The Duke and Antonio

One of the most arresting
features of this production is the stunning set design by Johannes Schütz.
There are none of the clichéd accoutrements for plays set in Venice (Gondola
moorings, the Rialto painted in the background and so on), and neither is it
conventionally modern. The stage floor and back wall of the stage are covered
in metallic reflective tiles, making the theatre seem much bigger than it is.
The only piece of scenery is a large metal ball hanging from a wire. Reflected
on the back wall, it is perhaps meant to evoke the three-ball symbol of money
lenders associated with the Medici. The cast sit on stools at either side of
the stage (being a bit of a thickie, I initially thought this was a new space
the RSC had set aside for people with mobility problems). The stage is spare
but not stark, because light and shadow are bounced around erratically by the
reflective tiles, accentuating both the lighter and darker episodes in the
drama. At the conclusion, candles are placed on the stage, beautifully realising
the magical unreality of Belmont; and throughout the play the musical
accompaniment, evoking haunting renaissance church music, helps to underline a
rising atmosphere of heavy unease.

One disappointing aspect
of the play is the costumes. The actors wear modern dress, which makes sense
(Elizabethan dress would probably not suit the nightclub feel of the stage),
but the outfits are either tediously drab (Antonio, Lorenzo, Bassiano) or
garishly ‘street’ (Gratiano). In either approach, the results are bland and
often ill-fitting, completely ill-suited (bad pun intended) to the Venetian
setting, in which glamour, even an understated or decaying glamour, might have
worked better.

As the audience enter,
Antonio stands alone on the stage. Only after a few minutes, does it become
clear that he weeps. At first, this seems to humanise Antonio. Much more so
than the hard but melancholy Antonio of Jeremy Irons in the 2004 film, Jamie
Ballard’s Antonio might at last be a character we connect emotionally connect
with. This intriguing approach (a likeable Antonio!) might cast a penetrating light
on the relationship between Shylock and Antonio, but it is quickly and
disappointingly stubbed out. Soon after, Antonio is hard and unattractive,
whilst being at times frighteningly close to a nervous breakdown. Perhaps the
director thought that taking two new approaches to Antonio would be too much
for the audience to take, because she does make clear (does she ever!) that the
love between Antonio and Bassiano goes far beyond even the strongest
heterosexual friendship. By keeping Antonio both gay and un-likeable, we end up
with both the gayest character, as well as the character played by a black
actor (Gratiano), being the most bigoted.

The sparseness of the
stage decoration helps to emphasise the moments of extreme physicality. Jamie
Ballard’s convulsive torment in the moments before his expected execution is
intense, but the most shocking moment of the play occurs when Antonio tells
Shylock to ‘lend it rather as to thine enemy’, taking the menace to a new level
as he grabs Shylock by the throat and spits three times into his face. Besides
Antonio and Shylock, Ken Nwosu does well in the lesser role of Gratiano and Patsy
Ferran as Portia is also excellent, although perhaps not really beautiful
enough for the part. Her ‘which the merchant and which the Jew’ line, played
for laughs as she says it facing the two men, one in a skullcap, allowed for a
moment of brotherhood between Shylock and Antonio, as both roll their eyes at the
idiocy of the young jurist sent to decide their case. Tim Samuels is a riotous
and riveting Launcelot Gobbo, almost singlehandedly putting the humour back
into a play that has largely lost it.

Makram J. Khoury

Makram J. Khoury as
Shylock is the standout performance, making up for the predictable
characterization and making the production truly memorable. The nobility of his
character is fully realised, but so too is his fragility. Dressed like
somebody’s grandfather, shuffling along and with shaking hands, his physical
weakness in contrast to the young hooligans of Venice helps to clarify the life
of communal contempt he stoically endures and the terrible vengeance he feels
entitles to take after the Christians have humiliated him and destroyed his family.
This solitary obduracy gains tragic grandeur combined with his physical
frailty. We cannot get around the fact that killing a person for not paying a
debt is bad. But so too is Shylock’s treatment by the Venetians. The laws of
Venice are his only chance to attain a semblance of justice and that justice is
not only taken away, but new injustices are heaped upon him. When Shylock’s
justice is denied, we see the limits of state sanctioned equality. No matter
how cosmopolitan the laws of Venice claim to be, Jews like Shylock will never be
equals as long as men like Antonio call the shots.